Cushion Secrets
by smileyfacebabe
Summary: She's his cliche drop of sunshine curled on the couch and he's her erratic mash of secrets hidden under the cushions. But they make each other happy, and so they're fine with that. ItaSaku, AU.
1. Bookworm Comforts

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto.  
**A/N:** This is probably going to be the place where I dump all the ItaSaku things bubbling around in my brain. Because I sit in class & my mind wanders & ItaSaku is the thing it lands on (at least, that or food or how damn cold it is or how frickin' amazing Mommy-bear is or- well, you get the idea). Probably not going to be related, either. Maybe they will be. IDK.  
**A/N2**: The book I refer to here is Soulless by Gail Carriger; & _damn_ is it amazing. Seriously, if you like good plot, vampire, werewolves, humor, & steam-punk you _have_ to check this thing out. OMG.

* * *

Itachi marched through his warm, extravagant, quiet house tiredly. The only thing that kept him from slouching and grumbling under his breath was the thought of how embarrassing it would be to let Shisui find him as such, and so his back was straight and lips pressed together. He was wary however, because the house was never this silent, even at seven at night. His mother should be bubbling around or Sasuke and Naruto cursing one another out, but everything was still and lazy about the air.

Or at least, it was until Shisui popped out.

"Hey there, lil' cous'," Shisui grinned, his shaggy raven hair flopping about his equally dark eyes with every bouncing step he took. "Wassup?"

"The house is quiet."

Shisui laughed, bubbling and powerful and Itachi admired how full of life his older cousin always was to himself. "Naruto and Sasuke are in the basement, so their shouts can't reach us here, aunt and uncle went to go see a movie, Tobi's asleep on the living room couch, and crazy ol' Marada's out again." He paused, his grin growing mischievously wider and he slung an arm around Itachi's shoulders. "Oh, and our favorite little blossom is reading in the library, if you're curious."

Itachi smiled slightly to himself, shrugging Shisui's strong arm off of him. "Why would I be curious?" He said, playing the apathetic college student when they both knew he was anything but. Shisui laughed softly, darkly to himself and left his cousin to his perusal of the bookworm pinkette easily. Messing with the boys sounded like a good idea, especially since that involved kicking their posteriors to Mars and back on Super Smash Melee.

Shisui's badly faked innocent whistling had long faded from the halls by the time Itachi made it to the library and he pushed open the door silently. The room was lavish and expansive, with large floor to ceiling bookshelves and a wide open space with three armchairs and a large plush couch surrounding a coffee table. In the corner sat a mammoth oak writing desk, on which the papers and pens there were solely for Itachi's use. But this wasn't because he had decreed them his, it was because no one else used the library for work, they mostly used it as a place to avoid Mikoto when on a rampage, to take a quick nap, or to play hide and seek, even though they were all a tad old for the game now.

Itachi spotted the girl's vibrant pink hair peeking over the back of the couch immediately and he stealthily made his way there, though he didn't have to worry about her noticing him; if she was in the library she was heavily submerged in one of her books and wouldn't be resurfacing for a while on her own. Upon reaching the couch he bent over it, nearly holding his breath, and smiled genuinely at the image Sakura made.

She was curled up like a cat on her side, knees tucked close to her chest with her head supported by an overly fluffy pillow cushion, her back a good foot or so from the couch back. What surprised him, however, that he didn't notice immediately, was that she wasn't actually reading; the book was haphazardly caught with her fingers tangled in the pages and her eyes were closed. That only made Itachi smile more visibly and the cliché thought of how adorable she looked while sleeping slipped through his mind. Her jeans were scrunched around her knees and she periodically shivered in her bright red tank top, it was nearly 20 degrees Fahrenheit outside but Sakura was insistent sometimes on her attire, though her shivers betrayed how cold she actually was.

Undisturbed Itachi kicked off his shoes and pulled his hoodie jacket up over his head, leaving them in a pile behind the couch without a care. In his own pair of jean and a black t-shirt he hoisted himself over the back of the couch, plopping down behind the slumbering girl. He wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face into her silky, violet-scented hair, and felt all the tension of the day leave his body completely. Unfortunately his semi-violent addition to the couch awoke Sakura and she shifted, pressing back into the warm body behind her before she fully became aware of the person there.

"'Tachi?" She mumbled, her fingers flexing, causing the book to tumble to the ground forgotten. But it wasn't forgotten at all and Sakura frowned at the thought of extracting herself from the comfortable position and her very warm space-heater. Fortunately Itachi sensed her distress, feeling the irate stiffing in her back, and reached down with his muscular arm to pick up the book, depositing it back at her stomach as he replaced his arm. "What 'ime is it?"

"A little after 7."

His breath tickled the back of her neck where his nose was buried and she giggled sleepily. After a second of quiet contemplation that seemed the only question on her mind for the 21 year old and she returned to her book avidly. They rested in silence after that, an occasional hum or giggle from Sakura as she read while Itachi dozed in and out of sleep lazily. After one particularly large bout of laughter from Sakura Itachi's usually suppressed curiosity got the better of him and he leaned up on one elbow to peak over her shoulder.

"What are you reading," He asked finally, when he didn't recognize the title. "That is so obviously interesting?"

Sakura tilted her head back so she could meet his eyes from the corner of her own, her smile infectious and neon bright. "Something Temari tossed my way this morning; it's placed in 19th century London, only everything's steam-punk and there are werewolves, vampires, and ghosts in society. The main character is a spinster without a soul who accidently kills a vampire because her not having a soul counteracts the supernatural's powers with one touch. The dialogue is absolutely hilarious and the woman is too, along with the vampire friend she has and the Scottish werewolf who has a love/hate relationship with her."

If Itachi had been any other person at all he might have blinked rapidly at all the information that had been thrown at him, but luckily he was completely on par with Sakura's mental abilities and simply hummed. "Sounds like something you would like," He agreed, letting his eyes scan the page. Sakura was still fairly early on in the book, but most of the page was taken up by the description of a very flamboyant vampire in pink high heels who liked to talk in italics.

Yes, that was definitely Sakura's kind of book.

Sakura gave him a particular look, one that read she knew what was going through his mind and she didn't really like it. "You should read it; I think you would like the language and the humor, Itachi." Itachi hummed senselessly in response, not really denying but not really agreeing either. Sakura sighed, taking that as the only answer she would get on the matter, and promptly went back to reading the book intently.

Or, at least she started to until her stomach grumbled loud enough to be a miniature gorilla on rampage. Then she flushed bright red, more so at the man behind her and how he laughed unrestrained into the back of her neck at her stomach's loud display of annoyance than with any actual embarrassment about being hungry.

"Dinner time, baby?"

Sakura tried to scowl at the man, but his face alit with mirth when it was usually so blank or tired was a sight she couldn't deny. Instead she bit her lip, knowing of everyone's previous endeavors with the kitchen and their endings. "Your mom's not home, though…"

"Pizza then," Itachi said, made cheerful by the red-rose blush fanning over Sakura's cheeks in addition to her presence in general. He stood up, dragging the younger girl energetically by her arm until they were standing, Sakura flush again his chest. Sakura gave him a slightly confused blink, raising one pink eyebrow at him; though she didn't comment or care about how they were pressed against one another so intimately, she rather liked it.

"Why are you so perky all of a sudden?"

Itachi grinned, swooping down to place a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. She scrunched up her face cutely but a smile peaked around her teeth nonetheless. He was grinning down at her in a way that she found much more Shisui-like than Itachi-like, all childlike shadows and blinding erratic impulses. Sakura found she rather liked the expression on him, though she hoped it didn't have the same kind of consequences as it did on his cousin; she didn't particularly want to bail him out of jail any time soon.

"You make me happy," He said simply, his chest warm and fuzzy. Sakura's blush this time was wholly focused on the embarrassment she felt and she resisted the urge to glare at him for making her turn such a bright red. Instead however she found herself grinning helplessly back at him, arms twining around his neck to lever herself to his height on her tippy-toes. She pressed her lips against his own, murmuring her replay into his chapped devious smile.

"You make me happy, too."


	2. Pretty Patterns

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.  
A/N: If this isn't proof I should get off the computer & stop thinking, I don't know what is. Just- just don't ask, okay. (this started out serious, i swear; i don't know what happened to it!)

* * *

Sakura used to trail her fingers over the glass of the store fronts while the other girls went inside. She'd gaze at the dresses, the shoes, the cute little shirts and skirts she'd never get a chance to try on, and sigh longingly, slowly. She used to watch the other girls go in gossiping or laughing, hips sliding from side to side, hair primped and pretty, and she used to feel the misery bubbling in her chest like disgusting green lava.

She never hated those girls for the way they acted (or, well, some of them she really did hate because they were snotty bitches) but instead she loathed them because she was jealous of them. Because they were to free to laugh and flirt, to prance around stores like that without feeling the weight of everyone's astonishment slam onto their slim shoulders. Her vision was green with envy, not disgust, when she glared at them at school, and the guilt of it ate her away sometimes.

She had been raised with boys, to fight and play rough, to wear pants and roll in the dirt, and so when she grew up it was her only option. She didn't know fashion (was that in or out this season?), she didn't know how to put on make-up (clown's weren't pretty, okay), and she didn't know how to- to smile at a guy and make it mean 'you should kiss me now'.

Because if there was one thing Haruno Sakura had never been accused of, it was being coy or subtle.

So she spent her high school days watching Ino and Karin gossip over her head, or when she was particularly sick of not understanding she would march over to the boys' and join in with their argument (sports, teachers-that-sucked, cars; that she could keep up with). She spent four years of her life watching everything pass her by, from freshmen Sadie Hawkin's Dance to prom, never taking any step forward into exploring how it would feel to be 'pretty'.

Whenever it really bothered her she would brush it off, tell herself she looked fine in her torn up jeans and well-loved t-shirt; that it didn't matter which way her hair fell or how the shadows always made her eyes pale out, nor about how well her clothes hugged her figures or if her shoes matched her pants. No one cared particularly how she looked, because she wasn't the kind of girl that anyone looked at that way.

She told herself that eventually it wouldn't matter that she wasn't 'pretty' and eventually the lie became more solid than the truth.

Sakura had always been a good liar.

After graduation she was still watching through those windows, but rarely did she dare trail her fingers over them. Certain things had changed, but overall she was still the dirt-covered little tomboy that had wrestled with the Big Boys in 5th grade. She wore eyeliner now, black, and her wrists or neck were usually adorned with jewelry, but her jeans stayed, her sneakers stayed, and her t-shirts stayed.

But so did that longing to be pretty.

She collapsed onto the couch, enjoying the squishy bounce her body's weight made before gravity forced it to settle into the soft, worn fabric. It had been another long, tedious day in police training and every muscle in her body ached unpleasantly, but she felt it was worth it. One day, she would save lives; one day she would be something so much _more_. Somewhere in the kitchen the clock tick-tock-ticked quietly and the refrigerator hummed as the icebox turned on, the only sounds in the apartment her could hear. But she knew he was here somewhere; the deadbolt had been locked on the apartment door and it was only ever locked when he got home before her. But still this knowledge did nothing, for the apartment stayed silent even as she stretched her ears to listen.

Half of her wanted to frown because he usually met her in the hall when he got there before her, but half of her was too busy enjoying the feeling of all her muscles uncoiling and falling limp. Still, she was halfway back off the couch, forest green t-shirt bunched annoyingly above her stomach when she heard the bedroom door open. The sound of padding of sock covered feet followed, telling her he was in fact there, so she sunk back into the cushions, righted her shirt, and waited him out.

Lazily she took up the entire couch, kicking her dirty jean legs up to drape over one of the arms while she straightened out her spine on the part where her butt was supposed to go. From her position, head tipped off the side of the couch upside down, she could just glimpse the cuff of his jeans walking steadily towards her and she could hear his barely audible chuckles as he drew closer. Her spine cracked noisily and she sighed, allowing the hand of her boyfriend pull her into a sitting position without much argument, but she settled against his side nonetheless when he sat down.

"Hello," He said, placing a small peck on the top of her cheekbone. His gaze was warm and he traced her little body fondly, taking in her catlike laziness as she curled firmly into his side. "How was academy today?"

"Tedious," She mumbled, eyelashes fluttering on her cheek softly. "Anko ran us ragged in a surprise inspection of our speed progress and Kakashi didn't let up either, he ran us through drills until we couldn't see straight. When I got on the bus a little old woman took one look at me and then gave me her seat, saying I looked like I had been through hell and back and needed it more than she did. She was nearly 80, I swear."

Itachi chuckled, low and smooth, in her ear, the warm breath fluttering around her neck only serving to make her body even more lucid. Like any good boyfriend who didn't want to sleep on the couch, he defended his girl's looks, his hand trailing up and down her arm soothingly (although she needed no help relaxing, since she was too tired to do otherwise). "You don't look like hell to me, babe," He muttered, placing another kiss on the top of her head. Real warmth ran through his voice, though, and somehow Sakura knew this wasn't just some line meant to keep him out of trouble; her face warmed lightly and if she'd had the energy she would've fidgeted or argued, but instead he continued unopposed.

"You're always beautiful to me, Sakura."

Once, Sakura stared through the glass windows of one of _those_ stores, her longing gaze trailing over the dresses and high heeled shoes. Once, she was sure to be beautiful or even mildly pretty one had to talk a certain way, dress a certain way, eat certain things; guys wouldn't look at you if you weren't beautiful like _that_. Once, she had loathed and regretted her childhood decision to forego dolls for cars and play with the boys, because it seemed to forever lock her from the chance to be 'pretty' or 'girly'. Once, she had wished she could be like Cinderella, if only to shed her dirty jeans and mud covered sneakers for just one night in a beautiful ball gown and glass slippers.

But that was once upon a time.

Itachi had a way of making her feel like the prettiest girl in the room, even when she was sweaty and dirty, in jean shorts and an old ratty band shirt. He had this way of changing her world with just one smile, one kiss, and slowly he had even changed the complex she had. Itachi made her realize it wasn't shoes, make-up, or a cute dress she needed to be stunning, that (cheesily enough) she only had to be herself. Itachi had taken her wild, desperate long (and that niggling habit of lying to herself) and tossed it straight out the window, all without breaking a sweat; he was like one of the superheros from the comic books she used to read with the boys and somehow that thought made her proud.

Sakura gave her boyfriend an accusatory look from beneath mostly closed eyelids, a small shimmering shard of a smile peaking around her slim pink lips. Sleep beckoned her softly, a welcomed siren-song she missed most nights, but it was still at least a minute from taking her completely. "You're ridiculous," She muttered slowly, nuzzling into his shoulder to avoid looking directly into his coal eyes, because then she'd give up and agree with him. "Sweet, but utterly ridiculous."

Itachi opened his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue and sliding off, but his girlfriend was already half asleep, mind gone. Sluggishly she raised her head, placing a soft abet slightly sloppy kiss on his jaw, before the last muddled thought slipped through her mind and lips.

"'Cause you'll always be the pretty one in our relationship, baby."


	3. Diablo Additctions

A/N: I can explain. Or, er… Actually, I don't think I can. The gist of everything is I was addicted to Diablo II as a child & was recently re-addicted & that is why I haven't been writing. At all. Like, anything. Mostly we're all getting pumped up for Diablo III, which comes out in January (right? I'm pretty sure…), which is kind of ridiculous, but I'm having too much fun to care. Now if only my baby would let me actually SAVE THE STUPID GAME SO MY ASSASSIN WOULD LEVEL. (Oh, yeah, Sakura's screaming? Totally based off how I play. I am a loud gamer. Legit.)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Diablo II. The end.

* * *

"AH. AH. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Itachi jolted up from the couch and tumbled to the wooden floor, shocked awake by his girlfriend's screams in the other room. Panicking and only half awake he scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over a book in the doorway in his haste. "Sakura," he called out, mentally running through the list of thing that could make the usually tough pinkette scream like that. "Sakura are you okay-"

Sakura sat curled about her laptop at the kitchen table, clicking furiously at a mouse attached to the USB port, face about an inch from the screen. She had a headset on, microphone in front of her pursed pink lips, and she was still screaming. "KILL IT, DAMMIT, _KILL THE BASTARD_, SASUKE_! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"_

Itachi froze completely, his brain still not fully awake as he took in the sight. Slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure the ground would hold his weight, he walked over to his oblivious significant other to peek at what exactly she wanted his younger brother to kill. Unfortunately for him he didn't recognize the game on the screen at all; not it's dark cave background or the figures running across the screen, a scantily clad blond chick followed closely by a mob of blue demon-like monsters with spears. He blinked, confused.

"Sakura?" He tried again, nudging her shoulder cautiously with one finger. "What's going on?"

"AH, SHIT," Sakura screamed, jumping up in a moment of fright. She whirled on Itachi for second to glare at him before she quickly turned back to the screen, ensuing in more furious clicking. She did however knock the headset down around her neck, so she could hear him when he spoke next. "Whaddya want, 'tach," she snapped, obviously annoyed.

"What are you playing?"

Sasuke's voice snapped out of the headset suddenly, interrupting anything Sakura was about to say. "Fuck it, Sakura, I can't find you. What the hell direction are you in anyway?"

Sakura lowered her mouth to the microphone for a second, snapping out, "north, dipshit," quickly before she started to answer her boyfriend, still terse and glowering. "It's Diablo II, 'tach, don't you recognize it? Sasori plays it too."

Itachi racked his mind for a moment, faintly recognizing that, yes, Deidara had been bitching about Sasori's addiction to the computer game, mostly because the blond preferred video games on the TV instead and so the redhead refused to play with him. He spent a moment watching silently from over her shoulder, listening to Sasuke and Sakura try and figure out where the hell each other was before his curiosity really kicked in and he sat down.

Smartly, however, he waited until the monsters were all dead before speaking again. "Sakura," he murmured, brushing a stray piece of hair away from her face so he could see her eyes, "could I play too?"

Sakura blinked, her mind momentarily made stupid as it always was when she met her gorgeous boyfriend's gorgeous dark eyes. When the words sank in her eyes widen in childish glee and she bounced a bit, mood suddenly spun right round. "You want to play? Ohhhh, Itachi, it's so much fun!" She snatched up the microphone and shoved it back on her head, finger clicking across the keyboard at lightning speed. "Sasu-babe, Naru-boy, I've gotta hit town so I can set up this shit on 'tachi's baby, kay?"

"Wait, what the hell? Sasuke's super scary brother's going to join us? NOOOO, SAKURA, HE'LL _KILL_ US ALLLLLLLLL!"

"Shut the hell up, Dobe; I'm getting_ really_ fucking tired of you screaming in my ears!"

"BUT TEME, YOUR BROTHER WILL KILL US ALL! HE'S IN LEAGUE WITH DIABLO, REMEMBER? _REMEMBER?"_

Sakura rolled her eyes and clicked a button that made a swirling blue portal appear on her screen. Clicking her mouse several times at a much more sedate pace than before, she made her character, the scantily clad blond, run through it and into a stone walled town. After that she pushed the headset off her head and onto the kitchen table, grabbing Itachi's hand up in her own and smiling. "C'mon," she giggled, leading him away from the faint sounds of her bickering best friends energetically, "let's go get your laptop and the CDs to get you started."

They spent the next couple hours curled up together on the couch with their individual laptops, fighting the demons of Hell and powers of Evil in the forested and cavernous areas outside the stone walled town. Naruto, a barbarian, and Sasuke, a necromancer, welcomed the help with no little amount of bitching, though they ended up needing it extensively. They however left a little while after Sasori, another necromancer, joined them. He stayed for an hour before his job called him in for the night, leaving Sakura's amazon and Itachi's assassin alone with a forest of undead and spiders.

At two am Itachi finally saved and exited, having enjoyed the game much more than he first expected. Curled into his side Sakura lounged, already asleep, laptop half off her knees. Quietly he saved and exited her game too, shutting off both laptops and setting them on the ground before he took the petite girl up in his arms.

"Good night my little demon slaying amazon," he murmured into her hair as he situated them both on the couch until they were comfortable enough to sleep. "Dream of the day when we'll conquer Hell itself and set the world free…"


End file.
